Change of Heart
by MercedesCarello
Summary: One-shot. Nanaba decides, against her better judgment but in light of her changing feelings, to make an effort to look more feminine in order to catch Mike's attention. His reaction is not what she expected. Rated T for language only.


**A Note from the Author:** First time writing Mike or Nanaba so constructive criticism welcome! (In particular, I wasn't sure what color his eyes are so help there is appreciated!) One shot, and so very fluffy.

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**Change of Heart**

Nanaba plucked at one tapered, fluttering sleeve of the peach-colored blouse she'd bought that afternoon, retying the string at the front into a bow yet again. It still didn't look right, but she was running out of time - or at least, so she felt. Logically, she knew there wasn't any great deadline to all of this - whatever she was doing - but the eagerness to show off her new look trumped that logic.

Eagerness, and nervousness. She'd never made any particular effort on her appearance one way or another; there'd been no reason to, and she hadn't much cared. And considering her line of work didn't lend itself to femininity she didn't have much to go on. But…she'd noticed the way Mike looked at more feminine women. The two of them weren't together, per se, but they'd grown closer over the past few years and she'd detected her feelings for him slowly changing, so gradually she'd barely noticed at first. When she realized she cared about how he looked at her, it'd been a conflicted few months.

She rose on her toes to try and see more of her figure in the tiny bathroom mirror over the sink, angling herself in ridiculous ways before giving up with a halfhearted sigh. No matter how satiny and feminine the blouse, it wasn't going to do much if there wasn't anything significant underneath it. The rain that had been threatening their rare day off all afternoon began to patter on the windowpane and it didn't help her waning confidence.

_Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all,_ Nanaba thought. She gingerly touched the plain gold studs in her earlobes, receiving a quick reminder of the pain of having them pierced only a few hours ago. She was going to have to get used to them the most - at first she'd thought it something she admired most about other women,something she considered one of the ultimate indications of womanly charm, thought it looked pretty if she allowed herself to think of anything as pretty, and that their willingness to go through a little pain was admirable. Now she couldn't help but wonder why on earth any of them would willingly do such a thing.

Nevertheless she tucked her short crop of blonde hair behind her ears so they could be better seen. They weren't very large at all, but already she thought she didn't look like herself with them present. Her hair needing cutting too, come to think of it.

_Or maybe I should let it grow… Come on, stop it. He'll be back any minute. It's just an experiment. Stop preening. You never used to worry about this stuff so why should earrings and a new shirt change that?_

Nanaba let out a readying breath and quietly crept out of the bathroom of part of the Survey Corps' temporary lodgings. She halted in the shadows of the short hall when she heard the front door to the residence open; the last thing she wanted was to see anyone else before Mike and get flustered by having to explain herself. Already she felt naked, and longed for the familiar cloak and uniform, her patched button-up shirt - anything to help her feel less _descript_.

But she glimpsed Mike's imposing form taking off his cloak as he passed the doorway on his way down the other hall, likely headed for the bedrooms on the bottom floor since the stairs up to the living and kitchen area were straight in front of her. Even the briefest glimpse of him reminded her foolish heart why it had done all this in the first place, and she pressed forward. Her steps were soft and slow into the light from the window above the front door behind her, and she looked around her in case any of the others decided to leap out from the woodwork. Ahead, Mike's bedroom door was open and she froze when he came out again.

He froze, too, when he spotted her.

"Hey," she tried to keep her voice casual, but it came out breathier and more nervous than she'd intended. She took another couple of steps in his direction.

"Hey," he echoed her. As he too took a couple of steps forward he gestured vaguely in her direction, drawing a finger up and down, "You uh, got a new shirt."

"Just thought I'd try something different."

"Why?"

Nanaba felt a kind of embarrassed fear grip her and she stood there motionless for a moment, mouth parted, suddenly unable to read the face she knew better than her own. Gathering herself, she hooked her hands into the pockets of the wide-legged brown tweed trousers than she was now very certain did not match and were not flattering. Her head tilted briefly down, "Oh, no reason," she mumbled. She managed to lift it again but focused on the polished floorboards instead of his face - it was the only way she'd get through this, now. "How was your morning?"

"Fine," Mike answered noncommittally. "Have you seen Hanji, or Moblit?"

"Err, no, I've been -"

"I wanted to run something by them before I forget."

He was moving away; he was moving past her with barely so much as a sideways glance, headed for the stairs. And she was letting him go, with only half-formed sounds slipping out of the corners of her downturned mouth.

This had been a bad idea. A useless idea. In a sort of muscle-memory she was trailing his huge shadow a short ways but breaking away, headed back for the bathroom while she processed everything.

_I…I'm upset. Why am I upset?_ she thought as she shoved the door to behind her. It knocked against its frame but bounced back to remain ajar. She didn't care. _This is…this is no big deal._

Again she was looking in the mirror, and again she wasn't happy with what she saw. She blinked rapidly and felt the warmth of indignation and embarrassment fill her up until her eyes prickled and her face grew hot. A bad idea. A stupid idea. All of it - today, the last few months - all of it was foolish. Of course this would happen if you were no longer impartial, no longer part of the wallpaper, no longer just a warm body trying to keep itself alive. Of course this would happen if she tried.

Nanaba reached up and began tearing at one of the earrings, her long fingers made clumsy by her frustration as they wrestled with the tiny screw-posts. She tried not to catch sight of her teary eyes, her trembling, pale lip. She sniffed. Her earlobe was bleeding now, and the rain outside was growing louder.

"Nana'? Hey, I -" Mike was pushing open the door; she didn't look at him, only continued to pry at the earring - she'd rip it through her earlobe if she had to. "Whoa, what're you doing?" He came to stand beside her and crowded the already small space.

"Nothing, just - just don't worry about it," she stammered, trying to calm at least her face if she couldn't calm her heart.

Mike reached out with one of his own large hands and stilled her own. She paused and looked at him in the mirror. Defeatedly, her hands fell to the sink and she looked away.

"What's with all this, anyway?" he asked gently. His hand was on her back, now - she could feel its warmth through the satin.

Nanaba's mouth parted but she struggled what to blurt out first. He shook her once and she tried again. "I…I was just thinking," she whispered, looking at the tiny fingertip-print of blood she'd left on the white porcelain of the sink, "maybe I should try…I don't know." She shook her head and sighed, aware of how juvenile her next words would sound, "I know I'm not…pretty. Half the time people don't seem to remember I'm a woman, and I suppose that's all right for the most part, but…I thought maybe, you'd like…" She shrugged.

After a heavy moment of quiet, Mike said, "Hey, look at me." When she did, his pale green-gold eyes were sharper than usual, as if something had offended him - and he was rarely offended. He sighed too, and nodded over her shoulder at the window. "You hear that rain?" At her single, confused nod, he continued, "I love the rain. I don't love it because it makes the trees or the grass grow, or for the sound or how people write poems about it, or how it feeds the rivers and washes everything clean. I love rain just because it falls. Drizzle, torrents, whatever. It does whatever the fuck it wants."

Nanaba's eyebrows pinched and rose.

He paused, then Mike leaned over to begin working surprisingly delicately at the stud in her left ear. She felt a tear creep out of her eye as she tilted her head obligingly, but she was starting to smile sadly, foolishly.

"You don't need all this stuff," he said, carefully drawing out the tiny post of the earring and turning her so he could start on the other. She let him. "They're somebody else's idea of a woman. You be yours - hell, just be _you_ and I'm happy." He drew out the other earring and put the collection of studs and backs on the sink, then grabbed the handtowel and wet it a little before tenderly cleaning off the blood on her earlobe.

She winced at the sting, but smiled more fully. "I'll be me, then." The tension was leaving her body, leaving her with a peculiar kind of tiredness.

The towel was draped over the bowl of the sink. "C'mere," he said, pulling her by the elbow into his arms. She felt him rest his mouth against her crown and his warm breath disturb her hair. "That's my Nana'."


End file.
